This blog post is the first in a series of three or four short stories about last weekend’s adventure, which I’ve tagged as #H2H. The ride was conceived while I was driving back to Bozeman from Missoula two weeks ago, but as the sun rose on Friday, my day off didn’t start as expected. I awoke with a pounding headache and nausea, my sinuses completely blocked. Just the thought of getting up to make breakfast was too much to bear.
As noon approached, the Excedrin kicked in and got me out the door. It was a late start, but my plan was to ride to the first town and then decide how to proceed based on how I felt. At 1 pm, I was pedaling down Main Street in Churchill. I still had a headache, but turning back just didn’t feel right. I might as well ride… right?
I arrived in Manhattan about 30 minutes later and actually started to feel better. I wasn’t up for riding hard, but going easy was fine, and I looked forward to the adventure. Around 2:45 pm, I reached Three Forks and stopped at a market to find something appetizing. I settled on sardines and an avocado. However, upon sitting down to eat for the first time during the ride, I quickly discovered that the avocado was rotten and the sardines were packed in mustard. Frustrated at not paying attention and buying the wrong thing, I just jumped on my bike and headed to Milligan Canyon. By 3 pm, I was back on gravel, venturing onto a road that I wasn’t sure would work out.
In the actual canyon, I began experiencing burning in my lungs. Within an hour, this turned into actual chest pains, and I started to worry. I was in the middle of nowhere and, if I had issues, I wouldn’t be found for quite some time. Approaching the top of Tobacco Root Pass on Cottonwood Road, I felt tingling in my arms and the heat caused my heart rate to soar. I didn’t feel well and made a deal with myself: if I could make it to Cardwell, I would call my girlfriend to come and get me. At 4:19 pm, I crested the pass and headed down Cottonwood Canyon.
It took a full 50 minutes to descend a few miles, and what was frustrating is that I had been looking forward to trying out this section of dirt road for twenty years, ever since I spotted it on the way to a cross-country mountain bike race in Billings. As I coasted into Cardwell, I knew what could possibly make me feel better: ICE CREAM. Despite being nauseous and ready to puke, I stumbled into the general store and bought a pint of Blue Bunny Vanilla. It was pure heaven, and within minutes, I felt like biking to the next town, just 10 miles of pavement to the west. Upon arriving in Whitehall, I felt good enough to consider completing my intended route.
My girlfriend was well on her way, but it would take her two hours to reach me. The more I sat near the Interstate at a convenience store, the more I wanted to ride up the two to three-hour climb to Homestake Pass. Next thing I knew, I was off, headed up to find some elusive dirt roads that would take me there.
Unfortunately, my H2H route was not meant to be. Well, it will be, just not last Friday. But it all worked out because my girlfriend called, suggesting we meet at Pipestone Pass near Toll Mountain. Great idea — I was just miles away. And we found a great campsite.
Boneshakerbike 
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